A Seeker in the Dark
by Arabella Thorne
Summary: THE CONCLUSION: Boromir seeks aid in interpreting a compelling dream in Rivendell. To be safe, this is AU.
1. Default Chapter

It was the dream that spurred me on and the pounding headache that always accompanied it. It was like the morning after a night of drinking wine that had not fermented enough. A throbbing behind the eyes. But it was not alleviated much by headache powders or tisanes. It had almost a will of its own and would disappear when and where it willed.  
  
Like the dream itself.  
  
Father said to seek for Imladris or Rivendell, the Elvish refuge of Master Elrond, a great scholar of lore and healer, if truth be known.  
  
I laughed to myself. Perhaps Father did not believe so much in the dream but in the fact his son and heir might be showing signs of madness. And that would not do for the future Steward of all of Gondor. He must always be an inspiration to the people and his behavior above reproach.  
  
So, I find myself now after many weeks ride at the edges of Rivendell. And poor Dullan, my stallion. He has put up with a long and dark trail through places neither of us knew existed.  
  
But this too will hold me in good stead as a future Steward. Travel expands a man's boundaries, and so I will tell my father when I return to the White City.  
  
I do not know how the elves that stopped me at the borders of their lands knew who I was, but I was hailed as soon as I had crossed within their realm. I put a hand to my sword and looked about.  
  
Three elves with bows in hand, though no arrows notched in their strings, stepped out suddenly and though Dullan almost unseated me by rearing, the elves lay hands on him and he calmed immediately. I did not even have to pull back on the reins.  
  
"Hail and well met Boromir, son of Denethor. You are welcome here. Our Lord expects you." From between two scarlet oaks, a fourth elf appeared bareback on a silvery grey mare and said,  
  
"Come, I am Velerinal. I will lead you to the Last Homely House."  
  
Since that was my destination, I made no objection, but bowed slightly to him and said, "Lead on sir elf."  
  
When I turned to see where the others had gone to, I could find no trace of them.  
  
And my companion, other than to give me the barest of instructions, said nothing further.  
  
Two hours went by in this fashion until the trail began to crest a high ridge and descend.  
  
"Below us you see the refuge of Rivendell. You will be made welcome there."  
  
I stared a moment at the uncommon construction of the buildings and terraces. I could see winding paths and unusual stonework peeking through the autumnal trees. It was nothing like anything I had seen in Minas Tirith, not even in the Old City.  
  
I shivered. I looked around for my guide, but he, like his brethren, had disappeared.  
  
I do not know if I like these elves or not. Not much good has been said of the elves in general and especially of those closer to my home, those of the Golden Wood. They are secretive and ghostly and do not welcome strangers.  
  
These elves had met me with fair words. But fair words may hide foul heart they say.  
  
I urged Dullan down the sharply inclined trail and once in the sharp river valley within which this Last Homely House is nestled, I gave Dullan his head and we took the now stone lined path across a narrow bridge and into a courtyard.  
  
I pulled up my horse and looked about. All was quiet, the stones littered with dry gold and brown leaves. It looked almost deserted. And then a dark- haired elf (Actually all the elves here have been dark-haired and greyish- eyed.) came and put a hand to Dullan's bridle.  
  
"Welcome Boromir, son of Denethor. You are expected." He bowed slightly as I dismounted. And I hate to say, I was a bit shaky when I touched the stones. My headache had come back in full force. Though it usually appeared only when I had the dark dream that had spurred me on to this unsettling place.  
  
I rubbed a hand across my forehead, then adjusting my shield and the Horn of Gondor, I took Dullan by the bridle and said, "I would prefer to see my horse settled myself, if that is all right."  
  
The elf bowed again and I followed him to the stables.  
  
They were large and made of stone and Dullan and I were led to a big box stall full of sweet smelling hay. A blanket lay folded on a shelf along with a bucket of oats and many currying combs and brushes.  
  
I got to work.  
  
Satisfied that Dullan would come to no harm here, I patted him on the nose, adjusted the blanket slightly over his withers and gathered my belongings.  
  
Now, I looked for direction to this Master Elrond. He who would hopefully interpret this compelling dream.  
  
As I entered the courtyar within which I had first dismounted, another elf came slowly down a flight of stairs before me, wearing an over robe of grey over darker trews. His hair was long and unadorned. He held out his hand and said, "I am Erestor, counselor to Lord Elrond. He is tending to an ill guest at the moment. Let me welcome you to the Last Homely House. Come Boromir, you must be weary from your long ride to this place. A hot bath and some refreshment await you. "  
  
An ill guest? Hm. Well the trip here had indeed been perilous. Perhaps there had been a mishap on the road.  
  
It is said that trouble follows sickness.  
  
Wearily, I followed the elf into the House. How cunningly the hallways are designed! An intruder would easily be lost and I myself was afraid I would never find anything or anyone here if left to my own devices.  
  
Before the elf left me I said "As soon as Lord Elrond is free, I would have speech with him."  
  
The elf merely bowed slightly and left.  
  
I looked about the guest chambers and was pleased with them, though I was surprised at all the arches that lead outside to a terrace and there were no curtains or glass or shutters on them, though the room was a pleasant temperature. And the fire was not even lit.  
  
A hot bath did await me however, as well as a tray with merely fruit and cheese and some kind of tea. I ate some of the cheese, but the rest of the food was not to my liking. Too light and insubstantial.  
  
After the bath, which was very relaxing, I decided I would rest some, as I was weary and the bath had relaxed me further.  
  
I had ridden far and though I knew my business was urgent, a short rest would be welcome, especially if this Lord Elrond was otherwise occupied.  
  
I stretched out on the comfortable bed and closed my eyes.  
  
The dream was very vivid this time and the Broken Sword glittered in shards before my eyes, almost too bright to see. I reached for the hilt, but missed and nicked my finger on the blade.  
  
For some reason, the cut throbbed painfully and woke me from sleep. I lay tangled in my blankets, though I do not recall wrapping myself in them. I was sweating again and my head pounded heavily. I quickly looked at my hands. There was no wound or blood. Getting up unsteadily, I went to the washbasin and pitcher on a narrow table between arches and poured water over my head.  
  
The headache made even the pale twilight hurt my eyes.  
  
I went to my rucksack and found the pouch containing the powders our family healer had sent with me. Taking a nearby goblet, I decided to be generous since my journey was over for the time being. I poured a healthy amount into the goblet and then added a little water. I was a bit surprised there was no wine or ale put out. Water was only for traveling. Civilized people left ale or wine for their guests.  
  
Shaking my head slightly, and even that made me wince, I swallowed the draught in one gulp and then threw myself back on the bed.  
  
Half asleep, I shivered suddenly so I pulled the blanket over me and sank into welcome darkness.  
  
It was night, and I awoke to the faint sounds of singing and the rushing of water over stones.  
  
Turning my head, I saw one lone candle burned at my bedside, but even that hurt my eyes. I put a hand over my face and sighed deeply. Instead of relieving me of this nightmare that I carry in my mind like a pustule that needs to be lanced, Rivendell is making me feel worse.  
  
I let me hand drop and my heart almost stops: There is someone in the room with me!  
  
I roll out of bed and immediately pull my sword free of its scabbard (it was leaning against the small table with the candle.  
  
"Who are you and what are you doing in my room?" I am disgusted with myself. I sound like a breathless, beardless.boy.  
  
The figure says nothing but moves closer to me. I back into the table and raise my weapon.  
  
"Fear not Boromir. I am Elrond."  
  
The elf steps to the edge of the wavering candle light. He is tall. Taller than I and is dressed in long dark grey robes, his hair is also unbound and lays halfway down his chest.  
  
His eyes! His eyes glittered reflecting the candle flame. They were compelling, and unsettling.  
  
So compelling I did not realize I had given up my sword to him and was sitting on the bed.  
  
Smoothly re-sheathing the blade, the tall form then leaned over and lay a hand on my forehead. I flinched, but the hand stayed put.  
  
Lord Elrond stood and looked at me narrowly. "You have a slight fever Boromir. Have you been ill on your journey here?"  
  
"I-no my lord. I am not ill. Not exactly." I pull my eyes away and they drop to the floor. "I have had a dream that brings terrible headaches. It is the reason I have come. I need surcease from the images." I rub my face tiredly. "They destroy my sleep and eat at the edges of my sanity." I dropped my head in my hands.  
  
Why was I telling this to him like a terrified child? We should be meeting somewhere, in daylight, in a study. Not in the deep watches of the night, I frightened and he.well he rather a disturbing, somber presence.  
  
"It is the dream's doing my lord, I am sure. I have a powder from my family's healer. I took some earlier."  
  
I stand a bit unsteadily and go to the pouch, which held the drug. I wordlessly hand it to the healer who takes a pinch and delicately tastes it.  
  
He looks at me and smiles slightly. "This is an adequate remedy. If you will allow me however, I can make something a bit stronger. And it will stop the dream, at least for the night."  
  
Nodding because the pounding is still present, the elf leaves as silently as he had appeared.  
  
I look at my sheathed sword.  
  
I must be very, very careful here. 


	2. Delay

I sat on the bed with my head in my hands after the elf had left.  
  
I felt demoralized. I had come all this way and now the elf said I was sick! How could I be sick? I never got sick. Perhaps he was mistaken.  
  
Tired of sitting I lay back with a bit of a shiver. Well, perhaps a little more rest would do me some good. Just a little. I had reached my destination after all and if this Lord Elrond was indeed busy with the needs of one of his other guests, well, that just meant I would have to wait awhile before he got to mine.  
  
A good soldier knows how to wait.  
  
As I waited for the day I would be Steward. I winced slightly at the thought. Of course, that would mean my father had died and I meant him no disrespect. I loved my father. He was harsh at times, but so would any man be in his position. He was a good man for all that and a great Steward. Perhaps one of the finest Gondor has ever seen. I only hope I can measure up to his legacy when the time comes. But for now, perhaps, I could rest a little bit.  
  
The bed was quite comfortable and even though it was so late into the night, the room did not feel cool. I was a bit warm in fact. I divested myself of my trews and leggings and lay back in just a tunic. That felt much better.  
  
I must have dozed off some.  
  
I opened my eyes and found the dark gray ones of Elrond looking at me. They again picked up the light of the dim candle at my bedside and were hard to turn away from. He had lifted my head off the pillow and was about to feed me his concoction. I sat up quickly and brushed my hair out of my face. "No, no my lord, that will not be necessary. I am no babe." I took the goblet quickly drank the contents.  
  
By Iluvatar's beard, it was a nasty flavored thing and I almost spit it back up. I will swear the elf had a slight smile on his face. He was not poisoning me was he? No, no, of course not. He would never do such a thing to a one such as I; the repercussions would be enormous.  
  
I found myself lying down again, the pounding receding like the march of armored feet echoing off the walls surrounding Minas Tirith. The echoing and the fading...the steps were fading. I closed my eyes, but they sprang open when I felt a hand on my forehead. The elf bent over me, his face softened some, his hand warm and comforting on my brow. "Sleep Boromir. Your dreams will be silent this night." I slept.  
  
It was quite late the next morning when I awoke. And I awoke slowly, my head felt rather wooly and thick. I was covered to my chin in a quilt and when I turned my head I could see a tray of covered dishes on the small table next to the arches.  
  
It was raining. And I admit, I did not want to rise. At home no matter what the weather, I had to rise and see to the daily watch and listen in on my father's councils and make sure the weapons were in good repair. I was always busy.  
  
But here, what was I to do? I had no work to do, nothing to inspect, nothing to oversee. I rolled over and sighed. But surely I could find something here to do, if it was nothing more than helping in the stables or fletching arrows; I could find some way to occupy my time productively.  
  
Until, I could have speech with Lord Elrond about my dream.  
  
I sat up slowly and brought a hand to my head. It did not pound but I did feel a bit disoriented. Undoubtedly the medicine I had been given did not agree with me. I swung my feet over the side of the bed and then stood. The room began to spin rather alarmingly and I found myself sitting on the bed again.  
  
Could I really be ill?  
  
I tried to stand again and found myself leaning against the wall behind the headboard. And then my stomach rebelled and I ran for the water closet and got very sick, I washed my face and stared at my reflection in the now still water of the basin on the table. I looked sick! Unfocused and rumpled! How had this happened?  
  
Perhaps it really was this place...the world of the elves did not agree with me.  
  
I stumbled back to the bed with every intention of getting dressed and leaving. But my head whirled sickeningly again and I am embarrassed to say I passed out like a raw recruit at his first barracks party.  
  
My first day in this land of the elves and I am as sick as if I had swamp fever picked up on a long march. I could not even eat, though I did try. But once again, it was light fare and not to my liking: fruit, cheese, some rolls and fruit juice. No ale or wine. But even those paltry things did not remain with me long. I lay in bed feverish and miserable, trying to rest. And it was good I had no visitors except at some point, the tray of food had been removed.  
  
When I was awake I tried to discipline my mind at least by going through the last campaign training I had put my men through, but I could not remember clearly how they were deployed. In frustration, I would sleep.  
  
But at least the elf had been correct: my dream did not come back.  
  
Evening came, and the rain lessened some. Half-awake, I listened to the sound of the water dripping off the roof. It was actually pleasant.  
  
I jerked suddenly as I felt that warm hand on my brow again. How was it I kept missing this elf's entrance! Being sick has certainly eroded my soldier's alertness. Startled I sat up, which did my head no good.  
  
But the elf laid me back. "You are indeed ill Boromir. I would have come sooner perhaps. But my other ill guest prevented me."  
  
"How do they fare?" I asked politely. One never knew where one could find allies.  
  
"His condition is grave." And he said no more.  
  
"I am sorry for it then."  
  
The elf merely nodded, smiled slightly and turned to leave. No doubt to make me another vile medicine.  
  
And shortly Lord Elrond reappeared, followed by another elf with a tray. I sat up slowly. mindful of my head. "What is all this my lord? I do not need anything special."  
  
"However, you do need a few restoratives Boromir. And you need to eat something light. It is just a little broth and water."  
  
My stomach roiled. "I would really like a glass of ale my lord, if you can provide it." Bold of me to ask, but I wished to see the limits of his hospitality.  
  
"Ale would be fine. Gardiniel, would you please bring Boromir some of the spring ale. It should be light enough I think." The other one bowed and left.  
  
No doubt with a floral aftertaste I thought smiling inwardly.  
  
The elf handed me the first of three goblets, which I drank in succession, schooling my features to blandness. Once again, they were vile. But my stomach did feel less uneasy.  
  
Bringing me the tray with the broth and a roll, he set it before me in my lap. Stepping back he watched me a moment, his dark eyes glittering with warmth. "Try the broth." Nodding, a bit embarrassed, I did as he asked. It was surprisingly flavorful, and more importantly, did not seek return.  
  
"That is an improvement, I am sure. Finish the broth Boromir and then sleep. I will try to visit with you tomorrow."  
  
"I appreciate your help my lord. No doubt I shall be up and about in the morning."  
  
"Perhaps Boromir. But I would prefer you to wait until I have seen you."  
  
I nodded. "As you will my lord." But I knew tomorrow I would be dressed and out and about before the sun had topped the edges of the Misty Mountains behind us.  
  
I had not had so much attention since, well, quite some time before my mother died I am sure. I felt the veriest little boy with a bad cold. And I did not like feeling so beholden to anyone not my kin.  
  
But seeing he would not leave until I had finished the bowl, I made short work of it and the roll. I was very grateful I did not get sick again.  
  
He took the tray from me, and I found myself feeling very sleepy, and I sank back down under the quilt.  
  
It must have been the soup.  
  
Lord Elrond bent and touched my brow once more, no doubt to test for fever, but I was asleep before his hand left me. 


	3. His illness uncovered

I was determined when I awoke there would be no more bed rest.  
  
I had had enough.  
  
Where I am from, we do not tend to coddle every little illness into leaving, we exercise it out of our systems. It is best that way. Makes one strong.  
  
Perhaps it was different for the elves. Looking about my room, I felt that their way of living was much more soft than the men of Gondor. There was actually a vase of flowers in my room and the flowers had been changed while I slept! Perhaps the elves' women folk controlled these things.  
  
The sun was rising between racing clouds and the air was bracing and crisp when I got up. An excellent morning for a ride.  
  
I was a bit dizzy when I stood and got dressed but I took a few pieces of fruit with me. I laughed as I tossed them in the air. Dullan would probably enjoy them more than I!  
  
I stepped out of my room and remembering the route I took into this House, I, with only a few missteps, found the outer courtyard and soon thereafter, the stables.  
  
The cool air made me feel much more awake and my spells of dizziness I just dismissed as hunger. I would eat after I had gotten my ride. The ride would do me more good than the fruit. (and Dullan enjoyed his apple!)  
  
Saddling up my lively stallion, I quickly mounted and took off out into the courtyard, over the narrow bridge (the one sign of defense here that showed some sense). The bridge was barely big enough for a cart or two to ride abreast on. And it was a sturdy well made bridge, showing less decorative and useless elements than the House proper.  
  
I winced as Dullan settled into a trot. Riding brought to mind that which I had forgot.  
  
The sharp rocks I had fell onto when hunting last week because the path I was taking crumbled beneath my boots. I had been stabbed in two places in my back. The dream and sleeping in the comfortable bed allowed me to forget about them. But riding reminded me of my folly. And I had gotten no dinner that night either.  
  
The ride was pleasant as the pain settled into a dull ache easily ignored, especially as I knew I did not have to go a certain number of leagues before I made camp. And Dullan sensed the fact this was just a ride to stretch the legs and nothing more.  
  
But in spite of the brisk air, I found myself more and more tired and light- headed. I must have breakfast. And certainly they could provide something a bit more toothsome than fruit and cheese!  
  
That ale had not been bad, though indeed it had had some kind of light flavor in it. But it was certainly a better offering than water or juice.  
  
Though Dullan was reluctant, I turned his head around and we headed back to the elven refuge.  
  
Saluting the guards as I rode through I wondered if perhaps I could at least practice my sword work. Surely some of these elves could wield a sword well enough for me to have someone to practice with.  
  
And yes, I am well aware of my history. I know of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men. But that was also a millennium ago. Who knew what the elves had allowed themselves to become in the mean time?  
  
They rode horses bare back!  
  
And this Rivendell was full of paintings and statues and intricately made goblets and furniture. Why my bed had mountains and trees carved into the headboard. Very cunningly done with different woods.  
  
Once I dismounted from Dullan, I led him back into the stables and gave him the other apple I had taken from my room.  
  
I was not hungry now, but I did have a great thirst. Passing elves as I went back to my room I tried to avoid looking into their faces too much. So many of them were as pretty as women! I am not used to men looking as soft as their women folk.  
  
Back in my room I was glad to see there was another pitcher of ale and I drank all of it rather quickly, which did not do my head any good.  
  
I sat on the edge of my bed and exhaustion ambushed me with no warning. I could not keep my eyes open.  
  
The dream had come back  
  
The Sword that was Broken was being wielded by someone I could not see. Their features were hidden by their swift movements. Isildur's Bane! They were fighting Isildur's Bane!! I could not tell what it was but it was something all together evil and it sensed my presence. I fought, but I had no weapon. It got closer and closer and there was a great heat....  
  
I awoke, sweating and my back was painful where I lay on it.  
  
I sat up my head aching fiercely. This must cease. I could no longer be at the whim of this terrible dream that had goaded me on to the North. It was like a nagging troop captain who would not let you rest on a march, who kept pushing you further and further, beyond your limit.  
  
Except this dream was not for my good. It was a whip, a cat o nine tails flailing me with its images until I felt I would go mad.  
  
And though I felt as if I was being weak by not dealing with this myself, I realized I had not the weapons to fight it. Nor had any one in Minas Tirith. So I found myself in this strange unsettling place full of...elves. And if only an elf could help me unravel this knotted fear that pummeled me constantly, then so be it.  
  
I must find Lord Elrond before this dream consumed me and I was no longer fit to be my father's heir.  
  
I got up, weaving like a drunk. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my tunic and brushed back my hair with my hands.  
  
I would find Lord Elrond and I would make him listen to what I carried, like an unwelcome yammering guest, in my head.  
  
And to think! This had been my younger brother Faramir's curse initially! He was the one who had the dream first! And yet, his simple telling of it one morning in the stables as we both set out to ride to our daily tasks ensnared my mind and that night, I dreamed of the Sword that was Broken.  
  
It became my unwanted burden to bear until it drove me out of Minas Tirith with my father's instructions burning in my ear.  
  
To have it made clear and to bring back to Minas Tirith a son and heir who's purpose was strong and whose dream would bode well for Gondor.  
  
I walked with a dry mouth and I will admit, with much trepidation, through this house of winding corridors and open rooms and tapestries and statues everywhere.  
  
So much clutter!  
  
But I could not find the Master of the House though I did ask two elves who politely told me they did not know of their Lord's whereabouts and had I tried his study?  
  
I grew weary of walking, and I found myself a bench that overlooked one of the many waterfalls that poured off the mountainous walls that surrounded this place. I put my head in my hands, feeling defeated.  
  
I had not found Lord Elrond. I had only found exhaustion yet again.  
  
I do not know how long I sat there, and I think I must have been in a daze, because suddenly, I found myself walking with Lord Elrond. He actually had me by the arm as if he was supporting me. But I was walking so I did not need any support.  
  
We went into what looked to be his study. At last, I thought, as I stumbled over the edge of a rug, we would talk of my dream.  
  
But he kept walking and we went into another room. A rather empty room with a large cabinet and a high table draped in white. I stood there uncomprehendingly. Perhaps we were going to have a meal together. But I was going to have to decline politely as I was not hungry. Just tired. And I needed to tell him of my dream.  
  
He brought a hand to my brow and began to feel along my jaw, his face composed and serious. I just stood there allowing him to do so as I found I had no energy for argument suddenly and just wished to close my eyes.  
  
He bid me to take my tunic off and with no demur I did as he requested. The tunic might have needed cleaning, though I had saved my formal clothes for this place. It would not do to have the Steward's son present himself as an uncouth country farmer.  
  
I felt his cool fingers pressing and poking my ribs and stomach. And then I found myself gently turned around.  
  
Only the lightest touch he made, I swear, but I suddenly wanted to scream like a frightened little girl.  
  
"Ahh, this explains your illness." Lord Elrond finally spoke, at least words that I could hear, he might have been speaking before but my mind could not make sense of them. "Boromir you have two infected wounds here. Please, get up and lie on the table face down."  
  
Again, I did not find his request strange and did what he asked. Gently he lifted my head and placed a small pillow beneath my cheek. I lay there a moment, idly listening to him moving things about in the cabinet. You know this room looked very much like the surgery off the arms room in the lower gate house of the main Guards Barrack in Minas Tirith. A surgery. Why was I in a surgery?  
  
"Boromir," his voice floated over my thoughts. "I will need to clean and suture these." I felt his warm hand over one of them and the pain lessened. I hissed at the sudden cold I felt being rubbed on the wounds and then, they went quite numb.  
  
Lord Elrond stepped into my view and smiled at me. He lay a hand on my neck and just before I drifted off I thought, "How rude! I finally encounter Lord Elrond to ask him of my dream and all I want to do is sleep....." 


	4. A burden lifted

Waking was a slow, slightly painful process.  
  
I was in my room. And alone . It was late twilight as near as I could tell. A branch of candles stood lighted at my bedside and there was a fire burning in the grate. Above the sound of water, I could hear singing again. The elves certainly had beautiful voices.  
  
I groggily pushed myself up as I was lying on my stomach. I tried to remember getting here.  
  
Last I had recalled I was going to speak to Lord Elrond about the insidious dream.  
  
I also seemed to recall something about a surgery.  
  
My back! I rolled over and brought a hand to my injury. It was bandaged and mostly numb. There were strange pullings.  
  
Sighing, I lay back. How could this be?  
  
Rubbing my face......yes, I remember Lord Elrond and lying on a table.  
  
Did we discuss the dream?  
  
I could not recall.  
  
Closing my eyes again, I tried to relax. And with a small start of surprise, I found I could. I did not feel the pull of anxiety or fear.  
  
Perhaps I did discuss the dream with the elf.  
While I lay there trying to orient myself, Lord Elrond came in, bearing a goblet. His elvish silence is most unnerving. I sat up as I did not want him to think me weak and soft. I thought suddenly of my father and what he would think of me being coddled by a stranger.  
  
Perhaps I would save this part of my report for later. As an addendum.  
  
"Boromir. How are you feeling?" The elf asked, his eyes sharp and assessing.  
  
"I am well. I thank you for your care."  
  
"The wounds were infected Boromir, I am amazed you were on your feet as long as you were." He handed me the goblet.  
  
"They were of no consequence. I have had worse," I said as I swallowed the medicine, as vile a brew as before.  
  
I looked up at the healer and then looked down quickly as I set aside the goblet. Knowing that he must be ignorant of the fact that we men of Gondor do not indulge in rest for every little cut and scrape, I said quietly. 'Again, I thank you."  
  
"You are welcome."  
  
The elven lord turned from me and then brought a chair over to my bedside. I was slightly alarmed: he carried the high backed heavily carved piece in one hand with no strain.  
  
The wood must be lighter than it looked.  
  
Sitting gracefully, he said quietly, "I have been remiss in my attentions to you as a guest Boromir. We have had no time to discuss this dream you have mentioned that brings you to far Imladris from your home in the South."  
  
"As you said earlier, you have other visitors and one has been gravely ill. Does he recover?"  
  
"As well as he might. Every day is an improvement."  
  
I nodded.  
  
Swallowing, I found myself taken by nerves, which made me angry as I was no softhearted courtier.  
  
Trying to organize my thoughts, I blinked when I felt the warm hand of the elf on my forehead.  
  
"I am not feverish." I pulled away, but the hand stayed put a moment and I found myself sighing and sinking back into the pillows, my fears drifting away. The hand slowly lifted.  
  
"Now you are not."  
  
Taking a deep breath, I looked into the unusual grey eyes of my host. They seemed very, they were..they were dark and deep like a cave with no end and I found I was unable to stop staring into their depths.  
  
"Tell me Boromir, son of Denethor, why have you come?"  
  
"I-I, my brother and I have had this dream." I started slowly, but my words moved faster as if a dam had burst. "The same one! For me, I cannot get it out of my head, it would not leave me be and drove me on, giving me terrible headaches and my father told me to seek you out as you were an accomplished lore master." I still could not turn my eyes away from his, and found no fear or anxiety lurking at the edges of my mind.  
  
Elrond smiled slightly and said, "Tell me of this dream."  
  
Aghast, I found my natural caution overwhelmed and once more a flood of words came forth.  
  
I told him of the Sword that was Broken and the Councils to be taken and the Doom...It all poured out of me until there was nothing more to be said.  
  
My head felt empty, as if a poison had been drawn from it.  
  
I had not realized I was sitting forward on the bed, hands clasped before me as I recited my mind's horror.  
  
When I finished, Elrond leaned towards me and again put his hand to my brow and I once more sank back into the pillows, not questioning his motion.  
  
Drained, my eyes were heavy as if weighted down by pebbles. I inelegantly yawned.  
  
But my host made no notice of it and stood.  
  
Snared again by the elf lord's remarkable eyes, I felt myself falling and it seemed as if it took sometime before I stopped, and the dark I sank into, for once, was welcoming.  
  
And then sleep overcame me.  
  
Another morning in Imladris.  
  
But on this one, I did not rise with anxiety driven by a need to outdistance my own thoughts.  
  
I lay in bed and decided, that this morning and perhaps some of the afternoon, I would rest.  
  
I realized with a lifting of my spirit that my running was over.  
  
I had delivered to this unsettling Lord of Imladris a dream whose presence had finally been banished to the world of the merely interesting and removed from the dark invasion of relentless pursuit.  
  
The elf had listened to my dream and though he did not say much, the mere telling of it lessened its hold on me. Until I could think of it and not be awash in pain and anxiety.  
  
He had not interpreted it, saying only that the retelling and unraveling of it must be saved for a more formal occasion where the others who had gathered here needed to be made aware of its significance.  
  
I was relieved when he said that.  
  
For all the time that I carried the burden of this dream, I was afraid in my heart of hearts that it would be revealed to be the fancy of an indeed troubled mind. And one not worthy to be a Steward of Gondor.  
  
I know my father would be satisfied with my travels if I returned home with the interpretation of this dream, which would hopefully bring glory to Gondor as well.  
  
I felt so light hearted I almost laughed aloud, but not wanting anyone to think me silly, I smiled broadly instead.  
  
Looking around, my grin grew larger.  
  
There was breakfast and, I noticed pleased, a breakfast fit for a Man: eggs and meat and two rolls glistening with honey and butter. And I doubted it not, that the tall goblet held ale.  
  
I sat up and grabbed the cup, whose sides ran with moisture and drank deeply of the light elvish ale.  
  
Perhaps I would get up this afternoon and walk the halls of the House, not in fear or suspicion but proudly, as a guest whose purpose would be revealed by and by, not only to himself, but to the unknown others that awaited the dream's message.  
  
And I would proudly tell them all that Boromir, son of Denethor was no longer a seeker in the dark, but a traveler whose tale would shed light on the councils to come.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~the end~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


End file.
